


Bumps in the middle of the night

by SketchLockwood



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, Historical RPF, The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman, The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 05:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15942641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SketchLockwood/pseuds/SketchLockwood
Summary: Elizabeth can’t sleep because of Edward, and it’s  really annoying her





	Bumps in the middle of the night

Her eyes were closed, though she would not get a bit of sleep. 3 years had been the same. 3 years of endless nights. She sighed, silent and motionless as she thought. Why was she not in her own chambers? Why was the temptation ever there to endure this? Endlessly endure this. 

Because in her own rooms she could her Bess cry, and it felt wrong to remain in her bed - and that was the nights her husband did not still encumber her with his presence. She loved him, of course she loved him. Each blessed inch of him. She lusted for him, and as for the passion? It was never absent. 

Some days however, she could hardly stand to be around him - much less have her in his bed. Adoration could turn sour, and he could be a handful. He was made of fire and ice. He was the volcano waiting to erupt and burn them all. 

Yet she did not care, most of the time. Even when they argued they made up. Tonight however? She was in no such mood for make ups. 

He fell silent momentarily as he moved. The coverlets had long since hit the ground despite the December cold. She wanted to shiver, but her irritation made her skin feel warm. “Ned.” She whispered, stroking a strong arm. He moaned.   
Whimpered gently, and resumed his pace. 

She sighed in exacerbation. Why did she bother? What was the point? 

“Edward.” She protested as the pace quickened, each noise becoming louder than the last until his snores became almost chokes. She rolled, shook his arm. That broke the noise again for a minute, she thought she woke him enough for him to react when she kissed his cheek. Her hand stroked his stomach. This always worked, always got his attention. Yet, tonight, his slumber was too deep. For his snore made her jump. 

“God if I could suffocate you!” She slapped the cushion over his arm, gaining only a slight kick in objection. If only to spite herself, she noted his snores radiated off each wall in the vast chamber. Echoing out of the now cold fire place. She picked up the cushions beneath her head, holding them over her ears. “Swine of a man.” She whispered. He retorted with the final snore that night. She could take it no longer. Her irritation boiled over and without thought, without anything other than instinct, she extended a foot, pushed with her arm, and with a thud and a curse he was awake on the floor. “Beth?” 

She said not a word, only pretended she had slept through the most obnoxious noise.


End file.
